A Plan Conceived
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Sequel to "Perfect Plans". What lengths will David Rossi go to to insure Emily Prentiss' happiness? Co-auth'd w/tonnie2001969
1. Chapter 1

**A Plan Conceived**

**Chapter One**

There were many things in life that David Rossi knew with certainty. Many things. He'd lived a long time and learned that just when you thought you had things figured out, circumstances changed. Fate was a fickle bitch that way. And she'd slapped him in the face yet again. Oh, she'd thrown a few favors his way. Namely, one Emily Prentiss. But he was still fairly certain that those fates hated his ass.

As happy as he'd been for the past five and a half months with his new life with a particular raven-haired profiler, it had still been wrought with changes and obstacles. The primary being Emily Prentiss' near obsession with having his child. His sex life with the determined woman had devolved into an endless parade of graphs and charts predicting the highs and lows of ovulation, acrobatic positions designed to increase their chances of conception and thermometers in every room of the house – the better to tell them conception time was nigh. Gone, were the days of impetuous sex against the kitchen table. There was now a calendar hanging on his refrigerator giving him notice of the evening's activities. David Rossi had become a stallion sent service his mare…and not in that real good way either.

He knew all of this was a small price to pay for being allowed to share her life…her space. Emily had never been one to yield her privacy easily and the knowledge that she'd lowered her barriers just enough to allow him inside to love her was a miracle in and of itself. He told himself to be grateful. She'd changed her almighty plans. For him. She'd say that she only delayed them. But he knew the truth. Emily Prentiss wanted his baby. Desperately.

He also knew a deeper truth. She was escalating. Rapidly. He'd received that message loud and clear this morning as he'd sat at his scarred kitchen table, paper in hand.

His focus had been on an editorial detailing the failings of the current administration. That was, until his newspaper was suddenly snapped out of his hand, thrown to the side, and replaced with a computer generated form. All within the space of five seconds.

Another thing David Rossi had learned….when Emily Prentiss wanted his attention, she didn't necessarily feel the necessity to follow societal norms at this time.

Glancing up, Rossi had merely raised his eyebrow as he stared into her set face. "Something you wanted to tell me, Cara?"

Nodding once, Emily had flicked the paper in his hands, her words brooking no argument, "You have an appointment. Don't be late."

His eyes instinctively went to the calendar on the fridge, wondering if he had forgotten an ovulation date. He hadn't. Glancing down at the form, he had scanned the print, his eyebrows wrinkling as he read out loud, "Fertility Specialists of Eastern Virginia." Looking back up at his brunette lover, he had asked, "Emily, I don't think you need me to go to your doctor's appointment with you, do you?"

Grabbing the orange juice out of the fridge, Emily had calmly filled two glasses as she said, "It's not an appointment for me, Rossi. Keep reading."

Feeling a sudden pull in his gut, Rossi had done as she said. And when his eyes found the words "semen analysis", he had yelled, "Oh bloody hell, no."

Emily merely handed him a glass of juice as she took a sip from hers, saying, "Yes, Dave. It is our next logical step."

"I really don't think that WE will be taking this test, do you?" Rossi had growled, continuing to read the form as he mumbled, "to measure volume…..liquefaction factor…." He then suddenly yelled, "And what the hell is morphology and motility methodology? This is not something that I think I want to be anywhere near, Emmy!"

Sitting down next to him, Emily had snatched the form from his hand as she said, simply, "If you want me to have your child, you will do this, Dave."

"Look, Cara," Rossi had said, trying to backpedal as he saw the frown settling on her face, "We've only been trying for less than six months and…"

"And in those six months, I should have already been pregnant, Rossi. My doctor says that I am ovulating on a regular schedule with appropriate egg shape and size, there are no problems with my fallopian tubes, and my body is hospitable to implantation. So it's time to check out your end of this deal," Emily had responded, eyes firmly meeting his.

"There's nothing wrong with my swimmers, woman," he had declared emphatically.

"Then prove it, Rossi. Show me they haven't drowned," Emily responded , flicking the paper back at him. "9:30 AM. Don't be late because this appointment was hard to get and I do NOT want to have to wait another two weeks to reschedule." Staring hard at the older man, she conveyed a wealth of meaning in a single look…her words were extraneous as she ordered, "I mean it, Dave. Not one minute late." As she reached the door, she called out, "And drink the juice. You'll need the vitamin C."

And then, in amazed shock, he had watched her stalk out their kitchen door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Plan Conceived**

**Chapter Two**

Standing on the doorstep of JJ's condo, Rossi laid on the bell for the second time, mentally counting to ten before he once again vented his frustrations. As he reached eight, he raised his fist, this time planning to pound on the heavy wooden door, only to hear the locks clicking as he suddenly came face to face with Will LaMontagne.

"Hey, Will," Rossi said, gruffly, trying to peer over his shoulder. "Hate to bother you this early, but is JJ home?"

"Sorry, man," Will said, shifting a wriggling Henry in his arms. "Her mom got sick last night. Nothing serious, but she decided to go up to Pennsylvania and stay with her for a few days." Seeing the dark look pass over Rossi's face, Will frowned, quickly stepping back to allow Dave into the house. "Come on in, Dave. Tell us what's got you out before seven in the morning."

Stepping inside, Dave ran a hand down his face. "It's nothing you can really help with Will," he sighed. "Your girlfriend was my best hope…maybe."

"Hope for what?" Will asked over his shoulder as he carried Henry into the kitchen and deposited him in his high chair.

"Hope to talk some sense into Emily," Dave grumbled. "God knows, she isn't willing to listen to me."

"Trouble in paradise, mon ami?" Will asked with a grin as he put some graham crackers on his son's tray.

"You might say that," Dave said under his breath.

Giving Dave a knowing smile, Will raised an eyebrow at the older man. "What'd you do?"

Snorting, Dave replied with a wave of his hand, "Why does it always have to be ME? Why doesn't anybody ever ask about her!"

"Because by the female law of averages, it's ALWAYS our fault. Hell, you oughta know that by now," Will laughed. "So talk, Dave. What'd you do?"

Eyeing the younger man calmly pouring milk into a bottle, Dave sighed. He and Emily had spent countless evenings with Will and JJ. And he supposed he considered the man a friend. A young, confident, FERTILE friend. And at the moment, he needed a confidante. Will LaMontagne might just fit the bill. "It's this damn baby making extravaganza! Today, I was informed that at 9:30 am I am to make a rather personal deposit at Emily's doctor's office! That woman is now doubting my virility!"

Sputtering as he attempted to swallow his coffee, Will raised widened eyes to Dave's. "She wants you to…to…"

"Don't finish the thought, LaMontagne," Dave muttered. "But, yeah, that's exactly what she wants me to do."

"And you don't want to?" Will said stupidly.

"Gee, ya think?" Dave mumbled. "My virility is just fine! At least, it used to be. Before the Sex Nazi took over. Now, I have to have a freaking appointment to take Emily to bed!"

Holding up a hand, Will shook his head. "Okay, way TMI, man!"

"Sorry," Dave mumbled, wondering why he was bothering to talk to a man young enough to be his son about this. And, Will Lamontagne's next words did not help matters. At all.

"I don't know what to say, mon frère. We got this little munchkin," he explained, lovingly caressing his son's head, "when the condom broke. One time, man! One time!"

Clenching his jaw, Dave wondered if he could get away with murdering his lover's best friend's boyfriend. Smiling tightly, Dave growled, "Helpful, Will. Real helpful."

Seeing the angry flush covering Dave's face, Will switched tactics. "So what's the big deal, Dave? Really? Put Em's mind at ease. Just go make sure there are still some fish in that pond of yours."

Rolling his eyes at the younger man's choice of wording, Rossi bit out, "My fish and my pond are still exactly where they're supposed to be. With the same number as there's always been!" He then added, in a more even voice, "And I don't think I should have to prove it to her."

"Ah," Will said with a knowing smile, leaning his kitchen chair back on two legs. "I think we might be getting' closer to the real problem now."

"It is NOT a problem on my part," Rossi asserted, his jaw clenching. Why couldn't LaMontagne see this? It was as obvious as the nose on his face.

Chuckling deeply, Will leaned over to pick up a dropped graham cracker as he said, "Man, if Em says it's a problem, then it's a problem. And worrying about your manhood ain't gonna help you at this point." Handing the cracker back to his grinning son, he added, meeting Rossi's eyes, "Learn that one now. The forest only gets denser from this point forward."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Rossi asked, confused for a moment as he tried to put together all of the pieces to this very convoluted puzzle.

"You think now's a problem?" Will asked rhetorically, shaking his head at the older man. "Just wait 'til your woman finds out she's actually expectin' your kid. It'll make this look like a walk in the park, man."

"But that's what she wants!" Rossi yelled, then winced as he saw Henry's face scrunch at the sudden noise. Reaching over, Rossi awkwardly patted the little boy's hand as he said, more calmly, "Uncle Dave didn't mean to yell, son."

"Yeah, get used to that, too," Will muttered as he handed his son his sippy cup, all signs of an impending tantrum suddenly disappearing as the juice appeared. Turning back to Rossi, Will said, simply, "Do this, man, if you wanna keep Emily happy. Then when she does get pregnant, be prepared to be blamed for every single moment that goes wrong in her pregnancy. Then, while she's giving birth, understand that you will be placed on the same level as ol' Beelzebub himself."

"Right now, man, my focus is on the next couple of hours," Rossi sighed, then added, narrowing his eyes, "But thank you so much for that glimpse into my future."

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to prepare you," Will shrugged with a wink. "Up side is, it only lasts nine months. Eventually the kid's gotta come on out."

"Well aren't you just Mr. Sunshine and Light," Dave said sarcastically, narrowing his eyes on the Cajun man as he stood. "But I don't care what any of you fools say. I'm not sharing any samples of my manhood with a common stranger. Mark my words, young William, I am NOT doing this."

Watching the older man stalk out of his small condo, Will grinned over at his son as he whispered loudly, "I think this calls for a phone call to Mama, don't you?" Grabbing his cell from the counter behind him, Will chuckled as he hit the speed dial for JJ. Waiting until he heard that soft voice at the other end, Will grinned as he said, "Chere, wait until you hear this…"


	3. Chapter 3

**A Plan Conceived**

**Chapter Three**

Son of a bitch! He was actually doing this, he thought as he sat in the small impersonal waiting room surrounded by burgeoning bellies. Looking around uncomfortably, David Rossi resolved that this had to be the single most humiliating experience of his life. And that included the time ex-wife number two burned his clothing on national television. Nothing surpassed this. And one thing was certain. Emily Prentiss owed him. Big.

Hearing his name called stridently, Rossi took a deep breath as he stood up, making his quickly to the open office door. Meeting the eyes of the petite pink-clad smiling receptionist, he said, tightly, "I'm Dave Rossi."

"Oh, good, Mr. Rossi," the woman fairly bubbled loudly, flouncing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Nurse Gretchen will help you now with your sample deposit."

Glaring down at the perky loudmouth as he felt the eyes of every person in the room on him, Rossi hissed, "Just point me in the right direction. Immediately."

Seconds later, Rossi found himself standing face to face with a nurse that could have given Nurse Ratchet a run for her money. Her lips pinched, Nurse Gretchen looked him up and down as she clucked, slowly, "We're going to need to get some information from you before we can continue, Mr. Rossi."

"What is there to know? I'm just here to do one thing." Rossi demanded, wondering if this day could get any worse. Not only did he have to do this, apparently there was going to be a test.

Frowning, the white clad nurse lumbered down the hallway, motioning for him to follow. Shoving open an unmarked door, she waited for Rossi to walk in behind her before she asked, clipboard at the ready, "Now, when was the last time you had sex?"

"Excuse me?" Dave asked, eyes narrowing on the aging nurse in front of him. There was absolutely no way he was discussing his love life with a woman that could be Helga, Queen of Pain's twin.

Rolling her eyes as she tapped her pen against his chart impatiently, Gretchen briskly explained, "If you've exercised your libido recently, Mr. Rossi, the results of the test can be skewed."

"Skewed?" Dave asked blankly.

"Skewed," the nursed sighed. "Meaning there might night be enough pulp in your orange. Not as many seeds in your apple…not enough…"

Holding up a hand, Dave shook his head. "I get it lady! We're not making fruit salad, okay!"

Snorting, the nurse stared him down. "Care to answer my question then?"

Internally groaning, Dave decided then and there that this had to be love with Emily. There was no way in hell he'd have ever considered doing this for another woman. "A week ago Tuesday," he grumbled under his breath.

"Ten days," the nurse murmured, making the note on his chart, the nurse asked without looking up, "You realize you need to actually have sex to get pregnant, right?"

He couldn't believe it! His sex life was actually being dissed by the geriatric nurse. "Not that it's any of your business, but we have a schedule."

"For sex?" the nurse asked, raising a brow.

"An ovulation schedule," Dave snapped. "Look, can we move this along?"

"Sounds like that's what Miss Prentiss should be saying to you," the nurse said sharply, raising an eyebrow as she apparently dared him to respond. "Now, have you ever made a clinical deposit of semen for medical purposes in the past?"

Clenching his jaw, Dave said simply, "No."

Peering at him over her half-moon glasses, Gretchen said with a shake of her head, "Are you certain?"

"I'm certain that I would have remembered such an event, yes," Rossi snapped out, glaring at the woman.

"I would have expected that a man of your advanced age would have already experienced difficulties in his sexual health," Gretchen said without looking at him, scribbling on his chart.

"My advanced age?" Rossi all but roared, his hands fisting at his side. "Are you aware that I am only 54 years old? I don't think that qualifies me for the geriatric ward!"

"Temper, temper, Mr. Rossi," the nurse clucked condescendingly. "Men can get their tender feelings so hurt by a simple statement," she said with a shake of her iron grey head.

"Tender feelings," Dave repeated. Shaking his head before he gave into the urge to begin screaming obscenities in the very upscale doctor's office he found himself in, he ordered, "Just give me the damn cup!"

Handing over a cup sealed in protective plastic, the nurse smirked. "Fill 'er up, Sparky. You'll find some visual aids in the cubicle behind you. Movies and such," she explained with a scrunch of her nose. "I'll be back to check on you in fifteen minutes."

"Do NOT check on me!" Dave growled. "There's nothing for you to see."

"Well, at least you're honest about that," the nurse said appreciatively. "Not many men are," she added with a conspiratorial wink before walking away.

Standing in the small hallway, David Rossi could only gape. First, Emily started his day by doubting his virility. Now, the freaking nurse was taking potshots at his size. Would the degradation ever end?

Apparently not.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Plan Conceived**

**Chapter Four**

Thirty long minutes later, David Rossi was seriously beginning to wonder if that nurse had cursed him with her snarking comments. His entire plan to just take matter in his own hands had not worked out nearly as well as he had first imagined it would. This was a puzzle considering he had over forty year's familiarity in the matter.

"This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me," Rossi groaned out loud as he stared at the ceiling, willing his body to respond. But apparently his brain had lost the ability to control his anatomy. And once again, he knew that Emily Prentiss was going to owe him, big, for this moment.

If he could ever make this moment happen.

But every time he closed his eyes and tried to think of Emily, all he could see was the pinched geriatric face of Nurse Gretchen. And if anything could keep a man from responding in that special way, he was certain it was that agent of Satan.

The faint tick-tock of the clock on the counter only served to remind him of the minutes that were sliding away from him. Five minutes ago, he had been stridently informed by the nurse from hell that there was a line forming in the hallway, which she had intimated was entirely his fault. Glancing suspiciously at the door, he honestly expected her to just barrel in at any moment and announce to the entire office that he was incapable of following simple instructions.

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the cabinet that he had first thought would be unnecessary. Maybe he was in need of a few visual aids to help him reach his ultimate goal. He'd never needed them before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And this was a desperate situation. First, because there was absolutely no way he could walk out that piece of hanging cardboard these idiots had the audacity to call a door without a sample. His pride wouldn't let him. Second, he was fairly certain that Emily Prentiss would not consider performance anxiety as an excuse not to do this. She knew his past; that excuse wouldn't fly in the face of her baby-making plans.

Sighing he leaned his head back against the one leather chair in the room and blindly reached for a DVD in the bookcase beside him. Hell, he hadn't watched porn in twenty years. It had never been his thing…especially when you could be doing the real thing. Leaning forward to pop the disc into the player, the small room was immediately filled with the sounds of women moaning. Glaring at the door as he heard a snicker in the hallway, he struggled forward to adjust the volume on the small television screen in front of him.

As he leaned back and actually studied the movie in front of him, he cocked his head to the side. He'd done a lot of things in his past, but he was fairly certain what was happening on the screen was considered a felony in several states. This was NOT working. Looking at the movie playing ahead of him, instead of being filled with lascivious thoughts, he instead wondered if the actor had a chiropractor on speed dial. The fella was gonna need one with those acrobatics.

Muffling a curse as he heard another soft knock on the wannabe door, Dave groaned. "Look lady, I'll be done when I'm done!"

"Dave?" Emily Prentiss called back. "Is that you?"

Hallelujah! The cavalry was here!

He quickly checked to make sure that he was presentable, then made a dive for the doorknob, yanking it open and yanking that beautiful woman inside before anyone in the hallway could even sneak the tiniest of peeks.

"I have never been so glad to see you in my life," Dave muttered, dropping a rough kiss to her waiting lips. Pulling back, he then asked, his hand buried in her hair, "But what are you doing here? I didn't think I was going to see you til later."

Eyes narrowed, Emily replied as she patted Rossi's chest, pushing him back, "Got a phone call from Gretchen. I believe she's under the impression that you might not be completely on board with this little exam, Dave. " Pausing, Emily glared at him as she then asked, "Is there a problem that I need to know about?"

"I'm not sure I would classify it as a problem, thank you very much," Rossi hedged, wondering how he was going to tell his much younger girlfriend that an extremely important part of their life might be in jeopardy.

"Something's apparently wrong, Dave," Emily insisted, propping both hands on her hips as she pursed her lips. "Gretchen said you've been in her almost an hour! And I know from experience that…."

"I don't think the whole world needs to know about our personal life," Rossi said quickly, throwing a dark glance at the paper thin door. Sighing, he dropped down into the leather chair and threw his head back. "I know you're not going to believe this, babe, but my mind won't wrap around this right now."

"It's not your mind that needs to be involved, Dave," Emily said, rolling her eyes. "And don't tell me that you don't know how to do this. Six months together proves otherwise."

"That's just it!" Rossi groaned, shifting in the chair. "Without you, nothing wanted to reach the finish line. Hell, it didn't even want to line up in the starter's gate this time!"

"It's never had that problem before, Dave," Emily said suspiciously, her eyes walking up and down his body, decidedly clinical in her appraisal.

"Trust me, Emmy," Rossi ground out, once again feeling like a stud being examined for proof of virility, "This ain't something I'd be joking about."

"Well, Dave, I think this office is well prepared for this eventuality," Emily said firmly, raising an eyebrow as she watched the man squirm once again. "I was told that everything you would need was available in this room. Maybe you'll find some of their tools useful."

Waving a hand toward the action on the small screen in front of him, Rossi smiled tightly as he said, "Already broke into their secret stash. And, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, let me repeat myself. It AIN'T helping!"

Turning to look where he was gesturing, Emily felt her nose scrunching as she watched the well-endowed woman turn in a position that she wasn't sure was humanly possible. "Ewww! That's not exactly sanitary, is it?"

Great, Dave thought sarcastically, banging his head against the hard leather headrest. Just great. If something didn't change, and change soon, he was fairly certain that he would never want to even THINK of sex again, let alone actually have it.

Squinting her eyes as she continued to watch the action, Emily asked, disdainfully, "How can you even watch this stuff, Dave? Don't you realize how degrading it is for the women?"

"Hey!" Rossi yelped in surprise, waving his hands in the air. "You were the one who just told me that I might need it, remember? That it might be useful? That was you, right?"

"Well, yes," Emily said primly. "But I was thinking more along the lines of a nice artistic pictorial," she huffed, gesturing toward the magazine rack.

"The only thing you got right in that sentence was the word "pictorial". I'm sorry, babe, but there isn't anything artsy or nice about porn," Dave groaned.

Tightening her lips, Emily reached forward flicking the television off with a flip of her wrist. Turning she stared at Dave with a frown. "Look, do you WANT to have a baby with me? Because the AI is still a viable option," she asked bluntly.

"Emily, for the love of all that's holy, if you ever want me to get you the sample you need, don't start with that crap," Dave growled. Taking a deep breath, he gazed across the tiny space at her. "You KNOW I want to have a baby with you…that I want it to be MY son or daughter if at all possible."

Nodding once, Emily took a step forward. "Okay, then you know what you have to do."

Glaring down at his uncooperative manhood, he raised his eyes back to her face. "I'm afraid it's going to be a little more difficult than that."

Rolling her eyes, Emily grumbled, "I never thought I'd live to see the day that the great David Rossi froze up."

"I have NOT frozen up," Dave retorted. Raising an eyebrow in her direction, he offered, "Perhaps, it would help if I had some incentive."

Waving her hand at the now blank television, Emily asked, "That wasn't incentive enough?"

"Not the right kind of incentive, Emily," Rossi growled out, wondering if he was going to have to be spell it out for her in neon lights. Leaning forward, he raised his eyebrows as he said, "You know what works, babe."

"Oh," Emily said, a light dawning in her eyes as she finally caught on to his thought processes. Wrinkling her nose, she asked, her eyes roaming around the room, "But here? This is…."

"Exactly where you expected me to be making a deposit," Rossi finished for her, rolling his eyes as he grabbed her hand, slowly pulling her down onto his lap. Stroking her stiff shoulder, he added, much softer, "And I think I've realized that I don't wanna be making any of those deposits that don't physically involve you."

"Well," Emily said slowly, relaxing slightly as she stared down into his eyes, "I guess this is a joint project."

"Now you're thinking in my direction," Rossi said approvingly, drawing her closer as he gently pressed his lips to hers. Feeling a slight stir in his nether region, he murmured against her lips, "And apparently the rest of my body is agreeing with this, also."

"Is that so, Agent Rossi?" Emily asks, a smile starting to play on the corners of her lips.

Fifteen minutes later, a grinning Emily Prentiss whispered in his ear, "Don't think I'm not going to remember this, Dave."

"I don't really think it's something either of us are gonna forget, Emmy," Dave panted. Zipping his pants as she rose from his lap, Dave shook his head. "You do realize how much I love you, right? How much I'd have to love you to do this."

Nodding, Emily glanced toward the door. "Let's get out of here, Dave. I don't think the nurse was kidding about the line."

Following Emily out the door, Dave felt his cheeks heat as the old battleaxe otherwise known as Nurse Gretchen stepped into the hallway. Handing her the sample, he muttered, "As requested."

Glancing from Emily to Dave, Gretchen shook her head. "You realize that was cheating."

"All you said was that I had to fill up the cup. You never put any stipulations on the method I employed to get you the sample," Dave retorted.

Snorting, the nurse eyed Emily. "I'm betting you've got your hands full with this one," she said, jerking her head at Rossi.

"Damn right, she did," Rossi hissed, pushing Emily gently out the door.

Shaking her head as she watched the unlikely couple make their way out of the office, Gretchen grinned as she looked at the perky receptionist. "Get me my next victim, Molly," she ordered.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Plan Conceived**

**Chapter Five**

Rolling over in bed ten days later, Dave grinned down at a still slumbering Emily Prentiss. Glancing at the date on the alarm clock, his lascivious smile widened. Tuesday, October 26. He knew this date well. He'd been looking at this day hanging on the refrigerator's calendar for almost two weeks. IT had a red circle around it. And that only meant good things for him.

Feathering kisses against her cheek, his smiled softened as one tiny hand swatted ineffectually at his face.

"Em-my," he crooned against her ear. "Wake up, cara."

Groaning, Emily turned violently on her side, cracking one eyelid and glaring at the alarm clock. "Fifteen more minutes," she mumbled sleepily.

Chuckling as he ran a finger down her bare arm, he replied, "Now, cara, you know the rules. The red circled days are mine. THIS is a red day. Hence, I say, WAKE UP!"

"It'll still be a red day in fifteen minutes," she grumbled, sighing as she felt warm lips just below her ear. Feeling that telltale chill shimmy up her spine, she smiled despite herself. David Rossi was relentless, especially when he'd been held at arm's length for almost two weeks.

"Yeah," he drawled, "but, currently you have a poor little egg just sitting there impatiently waiting for one of my manly swimmers to get on the road. You don't wanna piss off our boys and girls, do you?"

Turning on her back to flash him an incredulous look, Emily shook her dark head at him. "You're incorrigible."

"No," he corrected, moving above her, "I'm horny. And incorrigible. But, all that is beside the point!" Affixing her with a desperate look, he whined, "It's a RED day, Emmy!"

Releasing an unladylike snort, Emily rolled her eyes. "You DO know how to sweet talk a girl, don't you?"

Bending his head to claim her lips in a passionate kiss, he whispered, "I'll whisper all the sweet nothings you wanna hear later, babe. Right now, I want to-"

His words were abruptly silences by her obnoxiously ringing phone on her bedside table. Flashing the device a glacial look, Dave shook his head as she blindly reached for it. "Oh, hell no! It's a RED day! Fertilization…implantation….SEX, Emily!"

"Shhh!" she hushed him, covering his moving lips with her hand. "We could have caught a case."

"Which will still be there in fifteen minutes," he grumbled, flopping onto his back. "I get four red days a month, damn it! All I need is fifteen minutes!"

Raising a brow at him as her hand reached the cell, he amended, "Fine! Five minutes…but that's only because I've gotta wait ten days in between!"

"If we keep this up, you'll negotiate yourself down to 30 seconds and a quick kiss, Rossi," Emily said, grinning over her shoulder as she glanced at the display on the phone. Straightening up quickly, she murmured, "Doctor's office. This might be the news we've been waiting for."

Watching morosely as she clicked to connect the phone, Rossi muttered as he shifted restlessly, "They coulda waited a few more minutes, Cara. They waited for the sample, didn't they?"

"Hush, Dave," Emily said with a swat of her hand in his direction, her tone intense. "I'm waiting to be connected with the doctor."

"Well, since you're waiting," Rossi said with a devious grin, rolling on to his side as he trailed a gentle finger down her bare arm, "I'd hate for us to just be doing nothing. I know how important it is to you to multitask, Emmy."

Shrugging her shoulder, Emily shot him a glare as she bounced his hand away from her. "Not now, Dave!"

"Not now, Dave. Wait for a few days, Dave. Save your sperm, Dave," he muttered bitterly. But his diatribe was short lived as he heard Emily suddenly greet her doctor.

And then, by the look on her face, he was quite certain that the news she was receiving was not going to make her any more cooperative. Years of working with Emily Prentiss, followed by months of sleeping with her, had given him the unique ability to catalogue her every expression. And at this moment, he recognized the "deer in the headlights" look that he only associated with stunned and confused Emily, which he had only experienced four or five times in these many, many months.

A sudden thought crossed his mind as he heard her ask the doctor if she was certain of the results. There was only one test out there that really mattered to both of them right now, and it concerned that damn deposit that he had made just ten long days ago. Damn. Apparently, he was not the stud he had thought he might be.

Sitting up quietly, so as not to startle her even more, he placed a gentle hand on her neck, massaging the muscles that had tightened unexpectedly. Sighing, he glanced down at his lower anatomy, and muttered to himself, "I guess we weren't as up for this job as I thought, huh? Sounds like our boys might not be making it to the finish line."

"I-I understand, Doctor Murphy. But you're absolutely sure?" Emily asked, stumbling over her words on the phone. "Three o'clock, this afternoon. I've got it. Thank you for very much," she whispered, staring at the phone in her hand after the doctor disconnected.

"Emmy?" Dave inquired gently as he took in the sudden change in pallor to her skin. Seeing her lower her head to stare down at the black phone in her hand, he sat up in bed, pulling her back against his chest as his arms surrounded her from behind. "Listen," he whispered against her hair. "We can go the other route. I'm still gonna be here." Feeling her shake her head against his cheek, he felt the first stirring of fear in his belly. "We can still do this," he said softly. "Together."

"You don't understand," she whispered, struggling to form words with her constricted throat.

"Yeah, I do," he said, assuming his test results had been less than favorable. "I can see why you'd think I have a problem with artificial insemination, especially after how I acted. But, I don't. I just wanted it to be our last result. And if it is, so be it. Sperm doesn't make a father."

"Dave, you really don't understand," Emily tried to interrupt.

"I'm okay with it, Emmy. We'll go back to your original plan and just –"

Finally turning in his arms and slapping a hand over his moving mouth, Emily whispered, "You don't get it!"

Seeing the tears standing in her eyes, Dave felt his heart plummet. God, she was going to walk away from him. Because he couldn't give her what she wanted. She was gonna walk away from him and shred his heart in the process, he thought, holding his breath as he stared back at her dark turbulent eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered unevenly. "Those weren't your results, they were mine, Dave. I'm going to have a baby," she breathed, hardly willing to believe the news herself.

In that moment, staring into her bright flickering eyes, Dave suddenly realized that he couldn't speak. He had no words to respond to the amazing news that he had just heard come out of her mouth. Shaking his head, he swallowed tightly, then managed to croak, "Are you sure?"

Slowly shaking her head up and down, Emily whispered, almost afraid to say it aloud again, "She said I was pregnant, Dave. And she sounded like she meant it."

He felt his smile start to grow as he just stared at her, his fingertips sweeping a pattern against her cheeks as her tears began to fall in earnest. Pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, he murmured, "The time for crying is over, cara. We were successful."

Letting out a weak laugh, Emily dropped her forehead to his shoulder, her voice muffled against his skin, "You don't have to sound so cocky, Rossi. I might have had something to do with it too, you know."

Pulling her back up, Dave grinned in earnest at her as he laughed, a genuine, honest to goodness, no worries, laugh, "Hey! You gotta give me some credit! Me and my swimmers got the job done, didn't they?"

Pressing her lips to his, Emily nodded. "Yes, they did. We did it. We really, really did it, didn't we?"

"It would appear so," Dave whispered, lowering a hand against her abdomen to caress the sensitive bare skin gently.

"Are you happy?" Emily whispered, dropping her head against his neck.

"I'm elated, Emmy. I never imagined wanting this before you. Not like this," he whispered seriously.

"I know I haven't said this, but I'm glad you talked me out of my plan, Dave. You're going to be a wonderful father," Emily said softly, clinging to him and his strength.

"You wouldn't allow me to be anything less, babe," Dave teased. Shifting her in his arms, he stared down into her face and saw that it was truly relaxed for the first time in months. "And you're going to make an amazing mother. Absolutely amazing."

"I hope so," Emily murmured.

"I know so," Dave corrected.

"Because you won't allow me to be anything less?" Emily asked on a watery chuckle?

"Exactly," Dave murmured, squeezing her gently.

Propping her chin up against his chest, Emily raised an eyebrow at him as she asked, "You know what this means, don't you?"

"Do I wanna know?" Dave returned on a groan.

"Oh, I think you do," Emily whispered, slithering across his body to straddle him.

"I think you're piquing my interest here, Cara?" Dave said, gazing at her beautiful body as she draped herself over him.

"No more red days…no more scheduled sex," Emily whispered seductively against his ear.

"And just when I thought my day couldn't get any better," Dave laughed, pulling her willing body down to his.

_**FINIS**_

**_And stay tuned, readers...Emily's first trimester is up next! Warning!! It's a bit angsty!_**


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